Page 26 of A Forever Kind of Rancher

“I don’t think I can stay for too long. I don’t want to get...dependent.”

“Is that really why?”

“That is the only reason we should discuss.”

He nodded slowly. And she could see he was holding back. It was a strange thing to say. Because Boone was strong, and he was fearless. Because she’d watched him ride in the rodeo before, and he wasn’t a man who ever hesitated. But there he was, holding back. And she knew it wasn’t because of him. It was because of her.

Because he cared about how what he might say affected her.

And that touched her deeper than just about anything. Because she’d been married to a man who hadn’t given a second thought to how his actions would affect her.

To what she felt, to what she cared about.

Boone cared.

“There’s not a should anymore,” she said.

Except there were. So many. And they both knew it.

“What’s that code for?”

“Say what you’re thinking.”

“Be very sure,” he said.

“I’m sure.”

“You don’t want to stay because you’re afraid of what will happen between us.”

She felt like a layer of her skin had been peeled away, but she nodded slowly. “Maybe.”

“I don’t think there’s any maybe about it. It’s been two days, Wendy. Two days and I swear to God if I come too close to you...”

“I know.” She was suddenly desperate for him to stop talking. And she realized now why he held back.

“I won’t, though, is the thing. I need you to know that. I recognize that what he did to you is going to have you messed up for a while. I don’t want to be part of that. I don’t want to be part of this... Hurting you. I don’t especially want to have anything to do with him. You understand that?”

“Yes,” she said.

“I would never do anything to take advantage of you right now. Or ever.”

His words were raw. And the most real thing she had heard in so long. After so much bullshit.

“I appreciate that.”

It was such a weak statement. And it didn’t tell the whole truth. Or even part of it. Appreciate wasn’t the right word for him. It never could be. It was much, much too insipid.

She felt torn apart looking at him. And mostly, it was regret. Regret that she couldn’t afford to feel. Because she had the life she had. And the truth was, without Daniel in it, it was so good. She had Sadie, and Mikey, and they were wonderful. She would figure out what to do, and it wouldn’t always be a struggle. She had confidence in herself now, confidence she didn’t have when she’d been younger, and it hadn’t been given to her by Daniel, so it couldn’t be taken away by him.

She couldn’t regret those things. And yet, she looked back on that moment when she had first seen Boone, and she felt...pain. This deep wish that she could go back in time with two doors in front of her. Two men. That she could walk toward one and not the other. If only those moments had joined up. If only they had been side-by-side.

If only Daniel hadn’t been first.

But then she might not have confidence because of him, but she had made the steps she’d made in life in part because of her relationship with him, and she could never take him away and expect that she could have been the same person she was now.

So regret was pointless. But appreciation wasn’t the right word either.

Because Boone made her feel bruised. And swollen with need. All kinds of it. And she felt...tired. And where before that exhaustion had made her want to let Boone carry her bags, carry her burdens, now it made her want to let her guard down. Because it just took so much strength to be near him and not get nearer. She hadn’t realized how much strength it had taken all these years, but they were closer now. Closer than they’d ever allowed themselves to be, and that created a situation, or rather it exposed one she hadn’t fully realized she’d been in.

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